


Reality

by natashasbanner



Series: Prompts [66]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Grief/Mourning, Implied Relationship, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Pre-Captain America: Civil War (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-16 15:56:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16957014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natashasbanner/pseuds/natashasbanner
Summary: Tony and Natasha come to terms with the fact that Bruce might not be coming back, in their own way.For the prompt: Super angsty. But something about Natasha (and maybe Tony) coming to term with Bruce's "death" and they make him a grave, or they do maybe something else that's entirely unconventional.





	Reality

**Author's Note:**

> This one hurt a little but I like how it turned out. I hope you enjoy :D

“What are you doing?” 

Tony had shown up at the facility out of the blue that morning. He didn’t spend much time there anymore, not after the first few months of getting everything settled. He stopped by from time to time, but never unannounced. The only reason she knew he was there was because Vision told her he was just sitting in one of the empty rooms. 

Only, the room wasn’t actually empty. It was supposed to Bruce’s, they’d brought all his things from the tower and set it all up for when he finally decided to come back to them. 

“I think it’s time we faced reality,” he said. He was perched at the end of the bare mattress. 

“What are you talking about?” She pushed off the wall and took a few steps into the room. 

“If he could have come back, don’t you think he would have by now,” he sighed and dropped his head in his hands. “It’s been a year, Natasha.” 

Natasha clenched her jaw and cleared her throat. They’d been searching for Bruce since the day Hulk disappeared with the quinjet. He was good at blending in, almost as good as she was, but even with all his experience there should have been some trace of him, somewhere. That really only left two options, the first being that he somehow managed to get through the earth’s atmosphere and was somewhere in space. Or he was dead and they were looking for a corpse. 

She refused to believe he was gone for good, but it sounded like Tony had given up and she was afraid of what he might do, sitting in this room they’d left for him. 

“Tony,” she started but he stood from bed suddenly and crossed the room to throw open the closet. 

He stopped and looked at her, his eyes shining with unshed tears. 

Cautiously, Natasha took a few steps toward him, hand outstretched like he was a scared animal, if she moved too quickly he’d lash out at her. 

“He’s not coming back,” he whispered, but he might as well have screamed it. 

Natasha felt like someone punched her in the stomach. She stepped back and braced herself against the desk near the door. She watched as Tony tore clothes from their hangers and threw them in the direction of the bed. 

She couldn’t move, faced with the very real possibility that she’d been blissfully ignoring in favor of remaining optimistic. It wasn’t like her, she was realist to her core, but she let the emotional part of her brain take over and cloud her judgement. She’d spent all this time waiting for him to come back or for them to find him, she hadn’t let herself mourn the loss they had experienced. It was clear by his outburst that Tony hadn’t either. Until now. 

He took a step back from the closet, panting. She thought he was done, but he turned for the bookcase, eyes still blazing. Without thinking, Natasha surged forward and had Tony pinned against the wall in an instant. 

“Enough,” she ground out through clenched teeth.

He struggled against her grip on his arms, but she held him firm. 

“Get off me,” he snarled at her. “He’s gone and you can’t keep this place as a god damned shrine.” 

“I said enough,” Natasha said and shoved him back toward the now empty closet. 

He glared at her from across the room but didn’t make another move toward Bruce’s belongings. He sniffed and wiped his nose on the sleeve of his expensive suit. 

“I would’ve thought you of all people would see that,” he spat accusingly. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she shot back. 

Tony laughed, cold and cruel. 

“You don’t exactly have feelings like the rest of us, Widow.” 

That stung, just like he wanted. He was lashing out and Natasha wasn’t going to let him drag her down with him. 

“He’s not dead,” she said, her voice wavering despite her effort to keep it steady. 

A tear ran down her cheek and she wiped it away hastily, before Tony could see. But it was too late, his expression softened and he stopped pacing like a caged animal. 

“You really did care, didn’t you?” 

Natasha crossed her arms and scoffed. “No shit.

Tony sighed and wiped his hand down his face. “I’m sorry.”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“He’s not dead,” she repeated earnestly. “But we did lose him and we never really dealt with that.” 

“I’ll bring it up in my next therapy session,” he scoffed sarcastically. 

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “You finally start seeing that shrink?” 

“I haven’t actually gotten around to it yet”

He blew out a long breath and dropped into the desk chair behind him. Natasha looked around at the mess he’d made. Most of the clothes made it onto the bed and it wouldn’t take that long to put everything back in the closet. She’d just wait until Tony was gone to pick everything up. 

“Listen,” he rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at the floor. “What I said before, I didn’t really mean it.” 

“Yes you did,” Natasha said, flatly and shrugged. “I want him back just as much as you do.” 

Tony looked up at her, just staring at her until finally he nodded and stood up. 

“For what it’s worth, I believe you.” 

Natasha nodded. 

“Having this room, that’s how you’ve been coping?” 

Natasha shrugged. What they’ve been doing isn’t exactly coping, more like ignoring the problem. She’d keep the room, but realized she’d have to start coming to terms with the reality that he really might be gone. He headed for the door, but turned back before he stepped out of the room. 

“I’m sorry,” he told her again. 

“I know.”


End file.
